Of Bears and Ramen
by Miss Madd
Summary: Mr. Bear’s journey! SequelPrequel to ‘For the Love of Ramen’ and ‘Teddy Bear.’


Of Bears and Ramen

By: Madd Envy Freak

Summary: Mr. Bear's journey! Sequel/Prequel to 'For the Love of Ramen' and 'Teddy Bear.'

My name is Bear. An odd name, you say? Well, it's what my best friend in the whole world calls me, so I must assume that is my name. I'm just that, a bear.

But I was the most important thing in Gaara-chan's life, excluding his dear uncle, of course. I had never liked the man, however. He always looked at my dear friend darkly whenever the child wasn't looking. It made my stitches twist uncomfortably.

I remember all the fun time we used to share. All the sadness, too. It was the most painful part of my long life when Gaara threw me away after his uncle's betrayal. I missed my friend dearly, and I wondered if he missed me as well.

Now, I have to admit that I'm not Gaara-chan's most important person anymore. But, I can live with that. Gaara-chan still loves me, and sometimes I think he loves me even more now. I'm forever grateful to the golden haired boy for bringing me back to my friend.

Bear looked up at the face of the grinning red head and mentally smiled back at him. Was this his new friend? The strange blonde man had said he was taking him as a present for his master's birthday, so this had to be the child.

Gaara, as the man had called him, gingerly lifted me from the small box I had been wrapped in, all neat and tidy (too neat and tidy, in my opinion) and hugged me to his chest, all the while thanking the blonde man.

I glanced up at the blonde man and my stuffing churned. There was pain in those eyes, and something darker.

I shivered.

I cried as the children ran away from Gaara. Why were they so mean to him? What had he ever done?

There was nothing I could do but watch as te sand captured the ankle of one of the mean children and the scent of blood hit my nose button.

Oh, my poor master.

Moments later, Gaara-chan came back to me and picked me up. I winced as my stitching caught on a sharp rock, but made no sound of discomfort as Gaara hugged me to his chest, crying.

I begged him to reconsider, to not throw me away. But, the jaded eyes that looked down at me held no more love and light, just emptiness and sorrow. I wondered, briefly, where my real master had gone. Who was this copy with the bloody mark on his forehead?

Again, I cried as I was tossed away over the railing of the palace and onto the ground.

Why, Gaara-chan? Do you not love me anymore?

I know you do, I can still feel your tears clinging to my fabric. It was only days before that our picture was taken together, on this very balcony, by that bastard uncle of yours. And, now, you were throwing me away.

I don't know how long I spent drifting place to place. I guess it didn't really matter, in the end. After some time, I came to the possession an old woman who stored me away in her cupboard, yacking away about me being an antique of some sort.

Sighing, I spent the next many years collecting dust in the woman's parlor.

It was some time later that the woman brought a strange orange clad boy to her home and pointed me out to him. Who was this teen?

"Yatta! That looks just like Gaara's bear! How much do you want for it, old lady?"

Gaara? My friend, Gaara? Was this teen looking for me because his master wants me back? No, that couldn't be…

Vagualy, as I considered the possibility, I heard the woman listing off chores for the boy to do. When she was done, she left to get something from the kitchen leaving the boy and I alone.

He grinned at me then, a bright, dazzling grin that rivaled the desert sun, and I felt my stuffing warm to him, "Hey, buddy! Gaa-chan's missing you, you know! Don't worry, though! I'll get you outta there, then we can all go ear ramen together!"

He's missing me? This blonde haired angel was going to take me back? I sent out my best thank you to him, well, as best a stuffed bear can muster, and watched him bounce away to the outside.

I watched, from my perch, as the boy knelt down besides the cactus and began to… weed them. It was a funny sight, I have to admit. I could even hear his cursing from here as he was stuck with cactus needles.

Later, after he was finished with the cactus, I watched him race around the yard comically, attempting to chase down stray chickens. He suffered many a bite for that feat. There was even a moment where the chickens had become hostile and had chased him around the yard.

About an hour later, after the cactuses were weeded and the chickens caught (at which time Naruto, as he declared himself to the chickens, had many cuts, bruises, and looked a complete mess), he came limping back into the house. Following a short talk to the lady, he sighed and limped from the room and made his way to town. Upon his return, he had several buckets of water hanging from his shoulders, which he promptly gave to the camels--who, in return, spit on him.

Next he bustled around the dirty house and cleaned like a mad man. After two hours of this cleaning, the woman dismissed him until the next day.

As I sat there alone that night, I pondered over the enigma that was this blonde, Naruto. What kind of person was he? Obviously, he was a strange one. What person in their right mind would do all this work for an old bear? Even Gaara didn't want me… then again, this boy said he knew Gaara-chan… I couldn't even guess his reasons for doing all of this.

At the crack of dawn the next day, he was back. Honestly, I was surprised. I expected him to never come back after the manual labor yesterday. A few moments after he came, he left again. He didn't return until about three hours later, mutterings, dragging fifteen bags around behind him.

The old lady next gave him a sandy colored paint and a large brush. I wondered what she told him to do with such a thing, until an hour later I saw him by the window, painting the outside of the house.

It was dusk by the time he was finally done and he returned covered in paint. The woman smiled at him, said some words I could not hear, and he gave out a large whooping sound as my cabinet was open and I was handed to him.

He turned me over, searching for something I suppose, and found that something in the broken seam of my leg. Compairing it with a square piece of paper in his hand, he gave out a cheer. Grinning at me a fool, he skipped from the house with me.

Blue and orange. What an odd choice in color for wrapping paper.

He apparently thought so, too.

"Man, maybe I should have went with a teal or something… I don't even know if Gaa-chan likes blue and orange! Bah, no time to change the colors now, I have to get you wrapped! I'm gonna be late, shiiiiit!"

I thought to myself as he wrapped me for the fifth time that Gaara was lucky to have a friend like this Naruto. His uncle had never taken the time to wrap me himself, but this blonde had done that--numerous times even, to make sure I was perfect. I felt a swelling of pride in my gut as I thought of myself being a present to Gaara from this hyperactive, talkative boy.

There was light, and I was looking up at Gaara again. His teal eyes (that looked much warmer than I last remembered), looked down at me, shock making them shine. Slowly, he turned me over and saw my stitch, then looked up at Naruto who was babbling on about something incoherent.

I smile dup at my old friend and felt happy as Gaara brought me to his chest and held me.

Later that night, Gaara and I sat alone in his room. Sometime during the night,a servant had brought up a strange bowl of soup-like food, and he ate it slowly with wooden chop sticks.

"Naruto gave ramen to me."

I nodded, curious.

Gaara looked down at the food, a slight upward twitch in his lips.

"I thought, once Sasuke returned, that I would no longer be his ramen, and that the pepper would become the ramen in my place."

…Eh?

Gaara looked up at me with those jade eyes and a tiny, barely there smile stretched across his face, "I was foolish to think in such a way."

Again, I nodded. I didn't quite understand what all this had to do with ramen, but I could feel the appreciation in my master's voice. And that was all that mattered.

---

The end


End file.
